Chucky and Tiffany: The Untold Story
by gothgirl97
Summary: Before these two crazed killers became the infamous killer doll couple, Chucky and Tiffany were just regular kids trying to survive their abusive home lives. But how exactly did they meet? When did the killing start? How did they fall in love? Find out in this bloody untold story of Chucky and Tiffany's lives.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just another one-shot idea that I had about Chucky and Tiffany meeting each other and how they eventually became who they are now. I may or may not continue this story, but I hope you guys enjoy it! :)**

***This chapter contains mild, if not graphic child abuse and rape scenes. You have been warned!**

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Chapter 1: The Beginning

The loud screams for help could be heard throughout the small neighborhood of Hackensack, New Jersey. But these screams were normal at this time of night, so no one gave a second thought about what was really going on inside the old trailer house . . .

A young girl was curled up in the far corner of her bedroom wall; her body shivering in absolute terror and her face covered in a mixture of snot and tears as she looked up at the man towering over her. His lustful green eyes sent chills down her spine.

"Oh, Tiffany," the man said in a slurred voice, "Be a good girl and show your daddy some love."

"N-no! Go away, daddy! P-p-please, just leave me alone!" the frightened girl managed to choke out between sobs.

The man growled deeply as he stumbled towards her drunkenly, gripping both of her arms tightly, forcing her to stand up.

"Is that anyway to talk to your father?" He sneered, shaking young Tiffany violently; his large hands leaving marks on her already bruised up arms.

"I'm sorry d-daddy," was the only thing Tiffany could say as her father then pinned her to the wall. His fingers running through her blonde, tangled-up hair as his other hand started exploring places it shouldn't.

Tiffany trembled with fear as the man touched her some more, his hand slowly stroking the side of her face . "You're so beautiful, sweetie," her father said, his face now up close to hers. Tiffany could smell the strong booze on his breath as he spoke, "Let daddy show you how much he loves you."

His lips then forcefully kissed hers. Tiffany quickly managed to shove her dad away, making him stumble backwards.

"You little bitch!" He growled deeply.

Before Tiffany even had time to react, her father's large hand struck her face. The loud clapping sound of the skin on skin contact rang throughout the room as Tiffany collapsed down on her bed from the pain. She winced as she gently placed her hand over her now fiery red cheek.

Tiffany then squeezed her eyes shut as her father crawled on top of her; his hands fumbling to undo his belt buckle. Tiffany sobbed, her body shaking violently from the pain. She kept her eyes closed as she let her mind wonder else where, somewhere safe and secure in her own little world as her father continued to have his way with her . . .

* * *

Tiffany slowly opened her eyes as the early raise of sunshine shown through her bedroom window. She quickly sat up in her bed and sighed in relief as she realized her father was no where in sight. The sick bastard was probably down at the local bar, drinking away his guilt as he always did each day.

Oh how Tiffany Valentine hated her father and all the things he put her through; making young Tiffany's life filled with pain and fear. She was only ten years old. A child her age shouldn't have to worry about such things, but she did. Although, she was pretty use to it by now though. It was just the same endless day to day routine of her life. But that still didn't take the fear and hatred away, no matter how much she was use to it.

It wasn't fair; her older sister never had to deal with such pain. Sure, her parents didn't treat Jessica like a princess or anything close to it, but it always seemed like they favored her over Tiffany, as if Jessica was their angel child. Their mother would always say, 'Once is a blessing, twice is a curse.' And although Tiffany didn't want to believe it, she knew deep down that she was the curse her mother was referring to.

Tiffany sighed as she finally got out of bed and got dressed. Today was her first day at a new school, and Tiffany didn't want to be late, though she hated everything about school . She never had any real friends before, but she figured she'd rather go to school than to spend another second in her own Hell she was forced to call her home.

As she trudged her way downstairs, she saw her mother, sitting on the living room couch; smoking a cigarette and drinking down another bottle of vodka, as always.

"W-where do you th-think you're going?" Her mother asked, slurring her words.

"To school," Tiffany answered.

The woman's lips formed into a hateful sneer, revealing her rotten yellowed teeth, which matched the same color of the dirty stains that were on her old nightgown. She slowly put out her cigarette in the ashtray beside her as she glared at her youngest daughter, "I don't think so. You're going to run down to the store and get more drinks before you even think about going anywhere!" Her mother sneered, pointing drunkenly to the almost empty bottle of liquor in her hand.

Tiffany sighed, "But mom, today's my first day at a new school, I can't be late! Besides, I can't buy alcohol anyway, I'm only ten!"

Her mother growled annoyingly, "Your sister would do it for me! I swear, once is a blessing, twice is a curse."

"Then ask her to do it for you! I have to go to school," Tiffany said as she tried to hastily make her over to the front door, only to be stopped by her mother's voice again.

"Hey, don't you dare talk to me like that, young lady," her mother hissed as she tried to smack Tiffany's arm as she walked by, only to miss drunkenly, her hand swatting the air instead. The woman growled harshly.

"If you're not going to get me anymore drinks, then at least make yourself useful and wash those dirty dishes that your lazy ass father failed to do last night, he probably never washed one fucking dish in his life . . . A woman spends all day slaving over a hot stove for her man, the least he can do is the dishes!"

"Okay, okay. I'll do them as soon as I get back home from school, mom. I promise," Tiffany answered quickly, trying desperately to leave the house.

"You better, or there'll be no supper for you again tonight," her mother warned.

Just as Tiffany was about to open the front door, her mother stopped her again.

"Oh, and Tiffany," the woman called.

The young child slowly turned towards her mother, "Yes, mom?"

"Just remember what I always say; love will set you free."

Tiffany only rolled her eyes as she finally left the house and headed towards school. Her mother would always tell her that same, meaningless sentence every time she stepped out of their old trailer house. Tiffany didn't believe in love; hell, she was only ten years old. The only love she was given was the unwanted love from her father. Love would never set her free from this ongoing madness . . .

* * *

"Alright class, settle down," the fourth grade teacher spoke loudly to her class, "I'd to introduce a new student who will be joining us this year. This is Tiffany Valentine. I trust you all will make her feel welcomed."

The teacher smiled as she placed a gentle hand on Tiffany's shoulder, "Tiffany, how about you go sit at that desk over there?"

Tiffany nodded as she slowly made her way over to the empty seat in the back of the small classroom. Unbeknownst to her though, one of the children stuck their leg out in Tiffany's path, causing her to trip and fall to the floor; her face growing red with embarrassment as the whole room exploded with laughter.

She began to frantically pick up her notebooks and papers that fell out of her arms as she quickly got up and sat down in her seat while the teacher continued to scold at the class.

"Hey, ummm, I think you missed one."

Tiffany turned her head to see a young boy, about her age sitting next to her. His blue eyes looked into hers as he handed her one of the notebooks she had dropped.

"Oh, thanks," Tiffany said as she retrieved the item, smiling shyly.

The boy shrugged, "No problem."

"I'm Tiffany Valentine," she held out her hand for the boy to shake as she introduce herself.

"The name's Charles Ray, and this ugly ass guy sitting next to me is my pal, Eddie Caputo," Charles said, shaking Tiffany's hand as he gestured to a curly, brown-haired boy sitting beside him.

"Hey!" Eddie said in an annoyed tone as he slapped Charles in the back of the head.

Tiffany giggled, "Well, it's nice to meet you Eddie and Chucky."

Both of the boys looked at her quizzically.

Charles shook his head, "No, my name's Charles, not Chucky."

Tiffany just smiled, "I know, but you look more like a Chucky to me. So that's what I'm gonna call ya."

Charles stared at Tiffany for a moment as he pondered his new nickname.

"Hmmm, Chucky, huh? . . . I like it," Charles smiled as he nodded in approval, "And I think I'll call ya Tiff."

Chucky and Tiffany both smiled at each other. Little did they know that this was only just the beginning of what was soon to become a sinister relationship . . .


	2. Chapter 2

***This chapter is just another short one-shot I had for this story. It is not actually Chapter 2...it's more like the middle of the story. In this chapter, Chucky and Tiffany are now 16 years old and are boyfriend and girlfriend. They just got back from another night out together, so let's see what happens . . . **

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Chapter 2:

It was late at night when Chucky and Tiffany finally made it back to Tiffany's house. The two teenagers laughed in amusement as they walked up the steps to the old trailer home; still lost in their love-sick daze. They had been inseparable ever since they first met. But now, instead of just being good friends, their relationship had been growing over the past few years. Their love for each other was like their own personal drug; a way to escape the harsh realities of their home lives. But of course, that escape never seemed to last long enough . . .

Tiffany smiled up at Chucky as they reached the front door of her house. His blue eyes locked intensely into hers as he gently moved a strand of her bleach-blonde hair out of her face. Tiffany could almost feel her heart beat out of her chest as Chucky lightly stroked her cheek. She loved it when he touched her like that; so gentle and caring, unlike the way her father liked to touch her. The sick bastard.  
Chucky always seemed to know what to say on those long, horrifying nights when Tiffany would sneak into his house after another incident with her father. He knew what Tiffany went through on a day to day bases, after all, his life was just as bad; an abusive dad and a mother who tried hard to make Chucky's life better, but in the end, his mother would just sit back with tears in her eyes as her alcoholic husband beat her only child, over and over again. But as the young couple continued to gaze in each other's eyes, all those horrible memories just seemed to disappear.

"Goodnight, Tiff," Chucky whispered as he leaned into Tiffany, kissing her lips gently. Tiffany kissed him back, enjoying the feeling of his lips against hers.

She smiled, "Goodnight, Chucky."

Chucky flashed a smile back as he slowly turned away to leave. Tiffany sighed lovingly as she opened the front door. She didn't even make it two steps inside the house before she heard the loud sound of glass breaking, followed by an excruciating pain in her head as she collapsed on the ground.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

Tiffany looked up to see her mother towering over her with a broken bottle vodka in her hand.

"You were with that boy again, weren't you? Huh? Weren't you? You little slut! It's like I always say; you can always smell it on girls who sell it!"

Tiffany didn't even attempt to stand up as tears filled her eyes. She just laid there, crumbled up in a ball. Blood trickled down her face as her mother continued to scream at her. Tiffany closed her eyes and her body tensed as her mother raised the broken bottle high above her head. Tiffany heard the glass shatter but felt no pain. Nothing happened. Slowly, she opened her eyes, unprepared for what she saw next.

Chucky was standing in front of her, holding her mother by her throat. The older woman tried desperately to escape from his grasp; she tried to kick and claw at her attacker, but to no avail. Chucky's hands gripped tightly around the woman's thin neck, strangling the life out of her. He watched in satisfaction as her face began to turn blue and then gray, until finally she went completely limp in his hand. Chucky continued to keep a tight hold on the woman, making sure she was truly dead before he finally let her body collapse on the floor.

Tiffany stared up at Chucky in amazement. She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't know if she should be scared or not. Was this the first time Chucky killed someone? She didn't know. But right now, that didn't matter. He had just saved her life from her cruel, viscous mother. After a long moment of eerie silence, she finally opened her mouth and spoke ever so softly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Chucky slowly turned his head towards her, eyeing the blood on her face for the first time. "Are you okay?"

Tiffany nodded, "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

Chucky shook his head, "Tiff, that cut's pretty deep. You need stitches."

"And what do you expect me to do? Just walk into the hospital and tell them my drunken mother threw her bottle of vodka at me and then my boyfriend killed her? Oh yeah, I can just see how nicely that'll turn out," Tiffany said sarcastically.

Chucky just rolled his eyes, "I'll do it. Do you have a needle and thread?"

"Ummm, in the kitchen, I think."

Tiffany watched as Chucky walked into the kitchen. A few minutes later he returned with a clean towel and a sterilized needle and thread.

Tiffany raised an eyebrow, "Have you done this before?"

"When you live with an asshole for a dad that does nothing but beat you every day and get into fights at school like I do, you gotta learn to take care of yourself. And that includes closing up wounds," Chucky spoke as he gently wiped away the blood on Tiffany's face with the towel.

"Now stay still," Chucky warned, "This might hurt a bit."

Tiffany winced slightly as the needle went through her skin.

"Thanks, again," Tiffany smiled up at Chucky as he continued to sew up the wound. "You know, you didn't really have to do this for me."

"Hey, don't mention it. Next time I get sliced up you can stitch up my face and we'll call it even."

They both shared a small laugh.

After a few moments, Chucky finally finished closing up the wound. They stared at each other for a long while, neither of them saying a word. Tiffany was about to ask Chucky about the killing incident, but stopped. So what if her boyfriend is a secret murderer? He saved her from her mother. The bitch deserved to die. Without Chucky, Tiffany would probably be dead herself right now. And as Chucky leaned down to kiss her, Tiffany realized her mother was right about one thing: love would set her free . . .


End file.
